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Well Darius, I guess I should just step out of the way and let Raina go Kill Bill on your ass... Michael wasn't sure if it was because Darius was used to shooting the messenger, or if he was too drunk to know where he was at. Could'a been a little bit of column A, column B. Michael could have turned Darius' joke around. 'My face ain't worth what? Your body pillow? I'd hope so...' But Darius was drunk as all hell, so it seemed kind of unfair. Didn't stop Michael before, he's not above ripping on drunk people. Darius was his friend however, so he was above ripping on him specifically. Michael wasn't gonna make things worse over what amounts to jack shit in terms of importance. Best course of action was to keep his mouth shut. Even if Michael just had to keep the same half-assed smile and nod, while letting Darius walk off.

Y'know, in all honesty, Drunk Darius, he's kinda ehhh... reminiscent of Lennie Smalls. He'd hope that it didn't make him George, he really didn't want to spend the party babysitting Mr. Potato head. But y'know, if Darius continues on like this well... It'd be kind of necessary, at least it would be, if Darius wanted to walk home without his testicles getting kicked up into him and out his mouth like a demented Looney Toon's sketch. Well, what can you do? He did his job for the moment. One man walking EOD disposal unit. Bomb defused baby!

Michael turned around and walked back to the group.

"So eeehhhh...." Michael honestly had no idea what to say. Fuck uhhhh, what should he say? "You uh, you okay?" Gee captain obvious good fucking question. In all honesty though, he didn't really care. Raina's just overreacting over nothing. Didn't help Raina acts like a 'see you next tuesday' around him either. Well, in all honesty she did fall on her ass, while holding a hot dog skewer, I mean, it could've been bad. It wasn't though, so he didn't really get the crying over spilled milk shit. Darius got it worse, getting a can to the head and getting doused in beer. Some of which stuck to Michael's jacket.

As he was walking back to his friends and...Raina, he heard Darius singing yet again. Michael found himself slipping back into a giggle. "Ohhh shit..." Michael seen enough drunk people to know where this was headed. He really couldn't be mad at this event, it's hysterical. Give it a good five or ten minutes, it's going to be the running gag of the night, and the party group's in joke for the next week or two. "How much you wanna bet..." Michael had trouble not laughing on delivery of the sentence. "How much you wanna bet he's gonna-he's gonna start singin' he's a lil' teapot while pissing in plain view?" Michael shook his head. "I gotta feelin' Lil' Dee's gonna flash his lil 'dee." He bent over in laughter. He couldn't help it.

This entire situation was comedy gold. In all honesty, it wouldn't have surprised him if Darius was only pretending to be drunk, just to fuck with everyone. He continued laughing.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He regained some of his composure. "It's just, it's just funny, y'know?" He held a straight face for only a second. Everything that had happened in the past sixty seconds was beautiful, almost choreographed. "It's jus-" Michael bent over laughing again. Wasn't like he was gonna make the situation worse. You'd have to have no sense of humor to NOT think it was funny.
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I Know What My Fortune Is · After the Dance